


20:55

by wakeupstiles



Series: Firefighter Raven, Paramedic Octavia [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Character Death, Doctor Clarke, Established Relationship, F/F, Firefighter Raven, Heartbreak, Heartbreaking, Paramedic Octavia, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 01:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5766496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakeupstiles/pseuds/wakeupstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was date night.” Her voice broke into little sobs. “It was date night.” She repeated, like that was supposed to change something, like that was supposed to reverse time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	20:55

**Author's Note:**

> part of my firefighter raven, paramedic octavia oneshot series; this isn't connected with the other two in the series; all of these are stand alones

_9:07pm_

  
_The surgeon peeled back the white blanket, revealing a half singed and blistered face. But still identifiable despite the unruly damage._

_A mangled sob screeched from the woman’s already raw throat._

 

* * *

 

**8:12pm**

  
“Yeah, no, I’ll be there. I’ll be there.” She assured into her headset, minding the road as she weaved through the traffic. It was a Saturday night and the City of Chicago was buzzing with cars and people eager to get to their date nights with significant others or friends. Raven was currently stuck in minor traffic, which was causing her to be late to hers and Octavia’s reservation.

“You left late again, didn’t you?” Her girlfriend sighed from the other end. In the background she could hear her tell the waitress that her date would be late, but to leave the wine.

Raven propped her elbow up on the window, rested her head on her fist, shrugged even though the other woman couldn’t see it. “I may have taken a little extra time to prepare something after I got out of the shower.”

“Prepare what?” Octavia asked curiously.

The dark haired woman quirked up her lips. “You’ll see.”

“Fine.” Her girlfriend pouted.

Traffic started moving and Raven floored the gas. “I’ll be there in ten. Don’t eat all the rolls without me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Then she hung up and continued towards the restaurant. Not only was it Saturday night, it was the night that Raven was going to propose. She’d been sitting on the idea for a few months, debating when the right time would be, how she would do it, what type of ring she should buy.

Bellamy, Octavia’s older brother, explained to her that in their line of work their lives were never a guarantee, that they weren’t promised to go home every night, so if Raven thought that now was a good time, that she needed to grow some ovaries and _do it._

Murphy, surprisingly, was the one who told Raven to take Octavia to the restaurant that they went to their first date at. Because Raven was a secret romantic, for their first date she took the woman to one of the most expensive high end Indian restaurants in the city.

Clarke, Raven’s best friend, went with her to help pick out a ring. It was a white gold band with small light blue diamonds encrusted around it. A decent sized white diamond sat in the middle, and engraved on the inside of the band was ‘My Sun and Stars’.

She wasn’t planning to propose at the restaurant, though, she was saving that for back at their apartment. She had it all set up: they would come in, take a long, luxurious bath, then dive into bed, more than likely have amazing sex, and then when they were munching on the way-too-expensive chocolates that Raven had bought earlier that day, she would take out a white satin box, and ask the question that would change their lives forever.

Not to say that her plan was perfect, but it was perfect.

  
**8:17pm**

  
Raven hummed with a smile as she turned down another street. She was five minutes from her destination now. Five minutes from the best night of her life. But all thoughts of Octavia and the restaurant were pushed out of her mind when she saw the burning building in front of her. People had already started to gather a few feet away from it, whispering and taking pictures. There were no firefighters on sight and no sirens wailing in the distance. Raven rolled to a stop on the side of the road, parked her car, watched the scene unfold. She looked at the clock on the dash, her phone, and then at the building. With a few cuss words muttered under her breath, she dialed 911 and got out of the car.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The female operator asked in monotone voice.

“I’m Raven Reyes with the Chicago Fire Department, badge number 3256. There’s a house fire at 45 Bridge Way, no trucks on scene, possible victims inside.”

“CFD has been dispatched to your location.”

“Alright, thank you.” Raven put her phone in her back pocket, approached the crowd of people ogling at the fire. “How long has it been going?” She asked, not tearing her eyes away from the lit building.

The man beside her shrugged. “Two minutes at most.”

“Anyone come out?”

He shook his head.

She bit her lip. The first few minutes were the most critical; they were the best opportunity to get people out before the whole structure was consumed in black smoke; once the smoke turned black nothing else could be done.

 

**8:20pm**

  
Sirens screamed in the background but they were still far away. Raven bounced on her feet. She had a date but she also had a duty. _“Fuck it.”_ She muttered under her breath, then headed towards the entrance of the house.

The man grabbed her arm, pulled her back. “Don’t be a hero, lady.” His eyes urged her to stay put, to not do anything stupid.

She gave him a little cocky smile. “I’m a firefighter, man, it’s what I do.” He let go of her hesitantly and then she rushed into the burning building with nothing but the collar of her shirt to cover her nose.

  
**8:22pm**

  
The house was empty. She searched up and down, called out to the flames, but there was no one there. She was hastily making her way down the wooden stairs when one collapsed inward, snapping her knee back and sending her flailing down to the bottom floor. She landed on her stomach and all the air whooshed out of her lungs, causing her to gag and choke on the grey smoke as she tried to catch her breath. She tried to get up but white hot pain shot through her sides, abdomen, and left leg. Her ribs were broken for sure. Her leg was either fractured or broken. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  
**8:23pm**

  
She looked up when she felt a hand on hers. Right in front of her was an elderly woman on her back, her arm outstretched to Raven, her fingers grazing the top of her hand. She gave the younger woman a little smile. Raven returned it, grasped her hand tightly.

Her phone began to ring but she didn’t have the strength to reach back and grab it.

  
**8:24pm**

  
“Fire department, call out!” A male voice boomed through the house. Raven opened her mouth to call back to him, but her throat was desert dry and her voice wouldn’t come. She looked up to the other woman to see if she might be able to shout to them, but her eyes were closed and her chest was still.

Her phone rang again.

  
**8:25pm**

  
She was barely alive when they pulled her out of the house. Burns covered the whole left side of her face. Her lungs were drowning in smoke. Her ribs and left leg were broken. She was completely covered in soot, and if not for the ID in her wallet they wouldn’t have known who she was.

The ambulance rushed her to the hospital.

The Chief of 42 made a call to the Chief of 35.

  
**8:38pm**

  
“Raven Reyes, you better have a damn good excuse for being so late. Call me back. I love you. Bye. Oh, and I ate all the dinner rolls. They were amazing. But you wouldn’t know _because you’re not here._ Call me back.” Octavia ended the call with a long, frustrated sigh. The waitress came by again, refilling her wine glass. The red head gave her a sympathetic look, filled the cup a little more, then walked away.

Octavia rested her chin in her palm, began tapping her foot anxiously on the floor. She watched the front entrance like a hawk, perking up every time a dark haired, dark skinned woman walked through, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t her girlfriend. She checked her phone every few seconds, eager to see Raven’s name pop up on her screen in an incoming call or text.

It never came.

  
**8:39pm**

  
She was fading in and out as they rushed her to the OR. Her whole body screamed in agony. Her skin felt as if it was melting off. It became increasingly harder for her to move her chest to breathe; the more she tried to more she wanted to give up.

“Raven, can you hear me?” A distant voice called to her. She tried opening her eyes but they were glued shut from all the ash. “Raven, you’re going to be okay. We’re going to take care of you. Please, just hold on.” And then, closer, right up at her ear, in a faint whisper, “Don’t you fucking die. Do you hear me? You _can’t_ die.”

_Clarke._ That was Clarke’s voice scolding her to not give up. _Yeah, I’ll try._ Is what she wanted to reply back. _But you try having a lot of broken bones and your skin on fire._ The blonde woman would have slapped her for that. _I won’t give up. I’ll keep trying._

She blacked out as they pushed her into the operating room.

  
**8:42pm**

  
She jumped when her phone rang. She perked up a little but when she saw that it was Anya she slumped her shoulders. She swiped her finger across the screen to answer. “Hello?”

“Octavia!” The woman practically shouted. Then, calmer, a little broken, “Where are you?”

“Waiting for Raven at this restaurant. Have you seen her? Do you know where she is? She’s late and—“

“O, that’s why I’m calling you; there’s been an accident.” Her voice was small, somber and regretful. She never sounded that way. Octavia stood from the table, her heart rate spiking and her anxiety climbing. She grabbed her bag, left some money for the wine and a tip, then ran out the door.

“What is it? What’s wrong? What’s happened? What hospital?” She flagged down a cab, jumped in the back.

“Chicago General.”

She repeated it to the driver, emphasizing that if he got her there in five minutes that she’d give him a hundred dollar tip. “Anya, what happened?” She asked again, her hands beginning to shake, her stomach turning with terror.

  
**8:47pm**

  
She was cold. Her grip was slipping. They were working as fast as possible, the surgeon barking orders at the assistants and nurses. His hands were skillful and precise. Careful and efficient. But she was losing a lot of blood and she knew that no matter how much they tried to pump through her, she would just keep pushing it out.

She was dying.

She was certain of that way before they rushed her into the OR.

  
**8:50pm**

  
Octavia squeezed through the elevator doors before they opened all the way. A few feet in front of her stood all of Firehouse 35, all of them quiet, their arms crossed, waiting. “Where is she? Where the fuck is she?” She asked as she ran towards them.

Anya turned to her, put her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder, looked at her with those sad dark eyes. “She’s in surgery right now.”

“Is she okay? Is she going to be okay?”

“They don’t know.”

Octavia looked away, took a deep breath. “How bad?”

“It’s bad, O.” Clarke answered softly.

The brunette nodded over and over. Her eyes filled with tears and she sat down in the chair closest to her, put her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees. “Oh god. Oh god.” Clarke and Bellamy sat on either side of her, each putting a hand on her back in the attempts to comfort her. “What the fuck…what the fuck was she doing in a burning building?”

“Witnesses said she went in to help.” Murphy replied lowly, keeping his eyes steady on the double doors that the doctor would come out of when the surgery was over. He was crying silently, praying—even though he never prayed—that Raven, stubborn, loud, annoying, smart, incredible Raven would make it. She was his best friend, admittedly, and he didn’t want to think about losing her.

More tears spilled from Octavia’s eyes. “She didn’t have any gear. She wasn’t on call. It was date night.” Her voice broke into little sobs. “It was date night.” She repeated, like that was supposed to change something, like that was supposed to reverse time.

  
**8:54pm**

  
“Push more of Epi.” The doctor demanded.

“Doctor, she’s already had the max dose.” The nurse replied.

“Push more, goddamn it!” He shouted.

“Pushing Epi.”

“Paddles. Ready. One…two…three. Clear.”

Her body lurched from the table, but the monitors stayed constant.

“Clear.”

The straight line never wavered.

“Clear.”

The beeping echoed through the room.

“Call it. You need to call it.” The other doctor urged, placing her hand on the surgeon’s to stop him from shocking the woman’s unbeating heart again.

The surgeon placed the paddles back on the table beside him, looked at the woman on his table and then up at the clock on the other side of the room. “Time of death 20:55.”

  
**8:59pm**

  
When the surgeon emerged from the double doors, everyone gave him their full attention. Octavia gripped Clarke’s forearm as the doctor looked down at her. She knew before he said it; his eyes gave everything away. “No,” She whispered.

“Her heart stopped on the table. We pushed Epi and shocked her heart, but the injuries were too severe and her body was too weak.”

_“No,”_ Octavia whispered again.

“I’m so sorry.” He put a hand on her shoulder, gave a little squeeze, then left them to grieve. Octavia’s knees buckled beneath her and she fell to the floor with Clarke, who held her tightly as they both cried. Bellamy bent down in front of his little sister, touched their foreheads and grabbed both of her hands. Murphy cussed loudly, punched and kicked at the vending machine until Wells pulled him away. Anya turned away from them, cried silently into her hands. The others sat on the floor, in the chairs, against the wall, all mourning their friend and fallen comrade.

  
**9:07pm**

  
The surgeon peeled back the white blanket, revealing a half singed and blistered face. But still identifiable despite the unruly damage. Still beautiful despite the pealing skin.

A mangled sob screeched from the woman’s already raw throat. She fell to her knees at Raven’s bedside, grabbed her still hand and pressed kisses on her cold fingertips. The doctor exited the room to give her privacy, assuring her that he would be just outside if she needed anything.

The only thing she needed was her girlfriend back.

“I love you.” She said, kissing her cheek, not caring about the burns. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  
**9:36pm**

  
Clarke and Bellamy went back to the apartment with Octavia. They told her that they were going to stay the night, just in case. A million interpretations of ‘just in case’ scenarios flashed through Octavia’s mind but she knew she would never act on any of them.

She walked to their bedroom while Clarke and Bellamy sat at the little island in the middle of their kitchen. A little gasp escaped her lips when she opened the door and saw what was on the other side; white teat-light candles were placed on the dressers, waiting to be lit. Lingerie sat on the end of the bed. White and red rose petals decorated the comforter.

Octavia sat down at the edge of their bed, and that’s when she saw it. A white satin box waiting for her on the vanity. Her heart fluttered and her stomach dropped because she knew what was inside. She grabbed it, opened it, and choked on a sob as more tears spilled down her cheeks. A beautiful ring sat in the center of the box, inviting her to wear it.

“Goddamn you, Raven Reyes. Goddamn you.”


End file.
